4. Closing the Courses.
They walked a distance down the tree-lined path, and sat down in a clearing to plan their day. Randall, who was David's crew chief, shook his head. "We're never going to shoot any sightings until the fog lifts. For now, I can plot the existing road. I'll take a walk for as far as it goes, and take GPS readings along the way."
"Hardly," said Kiki. "GPS isn't working either. But enjoy your stroll. Don't let the bedbugs bite you!"
Of course, if he went a mere quarter-mile, he would walk into Hogsmeade. We can't have that!
So, about two minutes after Randall left, all his co-workers heard his loud editorial commentary on the day's events.
"AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH! AAAHHHH! AAAHHH! AAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
He arrived back in a fraction of the outbound time. He looked like he had seen a ghost.
"What happened?" asked David.
"I saw a ghost!"
There was much activity in progress in the magical world, just a hundred yards away.
An inner circle of wizards kept the fog from lifting. Past them, Sir Nick floated out of the cloud from his sterling performance, chuckling to himself. Ron high-fived Nick, or tried to, and checked off "ghost appearance" on the official schedule parchment.
Jock and others spread out to play the hunters. A few random gunshots on all sides ought to keep the survey team on their toes!
Hagrid emptied his sacks of snakes along the ground, and a line of beaters urged them into the fog, toward the strangers, as though they were fleeing the hunters. Then, Hagrid picked up more sacks and accompanied Flitwick toward the unattended vehicles.
Harry, Hermione and McGonagall were tending several nervous school owls. The birds were used to odd requests, but playing rabid ferrets was beyond weird! McGonagall told them to show themselves to the strangers, without getting too close to them or the snakes, then return to her. They pecked their agreement. With a wave and a word, the owls were transfigured into foaming ferrets, and set off to do their job.
Randall was not dealing with it very well, and Kiki wasn't helping.
"The awful thing tipped its head to me. Tipped its HEAD!"
"Come on," said Kiki. "It had to be that hunter or one of his friends. They're having a good old time scaring us."
"IT -- WALKED -- THROUGH -- ME!"
Kiki couldn't think of any way that trick might have been faked, so she stopped trying to console the shaken man. She had no answer for the electrical difficulties, either, and that was going to significantly delay her little expedition. What to do?
"All right, enough for one day. Maybe this fog will burn off tomorrow. Let's get the tents and supplies, and make camp here. I assume we can cook and sleep without offending the gods. David, you might see if the generator kit has starter fluid, and try it in the carburetors."
While the men went to the vehicles, Kiki took a folding saw from her field survey bag and began trimming some small trees for firewood. The sporadic gunfire in the distance was the only noise she heard in the still fog.....
...... until the men opened the vehicle doors, and saw what was inside.
If anyone was keeping score, "GAAAAAHHH!" would have been the most common reaction to the infestation of mice and rats. The aforementioned "AAAAARRRGGGGHHHH!" would have been second, with that old Hogwarts favourite, "BLOODY HELL!" a close third. The equally terrified rodents took off in all directions.
Well, no. Not exactly all directions. Thanks to the fog, the rats had only one direction they could see any distance. They all ran down the path toward Kiki.
The rats and mice arrived in the campsite at about the same moment as the snakes and the foaming ferrets.
On the screamometer for the day, Kiki was definitely the winner.
A hundred yards away, Hagrid chortled with pride in a job well done.
Flitwick had seen to it that the Land Rovers weren't going to start yet, even if they were pushed all the way to the main road. If the magicians had any say in the matter, the visitors were going to have a full evening of it.
Madam Rosemerta walked among the troops, distributing chits for the evening; the first round was on her! As a result, the Three Broomsticks was packed all night. The "ferrets," restored to proper owls, were feted with treats at the main counter for their special duty. Sir Nick sat in a chair of honour next to Hagrid and Dumbledore; McGonagall, Snape and others toasted their success at another table, and students enjoyed this rare midweek visit to Hogsmeade.
Some witches and wizards left for a while, taking turns maintaining the fog; students scattered around the fog's perimeter, making the occasional moan or scream. Angelina was looking forward to midnight, when she intended to circle through the campsite on a broom, wearing traditional garb, and doing her best imitation of the Wicked Witch of the West.
Down the path, the tents had been erected near the vehicles. None of them was going back to the clearing again.
A roaring campfire was started, as much to keep pests away as to warm the terrified crew in the chill evening. Randall declared he was off duty, now and maybe forever, and began sipping whiskey "to sooth my nerves" -- not that it did. Kiki, strangely quiet, was drinking cup after cup of coffee, and was so wound up she would never be able to sleep that night; David sat up with her. The rest warmed a huge pot of beef stew over the fire, and finished dinner by losing themselves in bottles of Guinness stout, then tenting down for an uneasy sleep.
Before Angelina took to her broom, Ron proposed some added excitement. As long as the visitors were all going to wake up, why not something extra in their tents, too? Dumbledore nodded approval.
So, at midnight, there was not only (a) a very real cackling witch on a broom, throwing a powder in the campfire that turned the flames green, but also (b) the discovery that something non-human was moving in the tents, and (c) the further discovery that the tent zippers wouldn't open.
After the strangers were sufficiently roused by this, the hooded elves removed the charm from the zippers, and vanished from the tents as quietly as they had come.
The visitors spent the rest of the night sitting up in the ice-cold Land Rovers while the campfire died, leaving them isolated in darkness within the safety of their locked doors and steamed-up windows.
Down the path at 1 AM, Madam Rosemerta finished counting the evening's take, and was so pleased that she announced she was buying another round. That wouldn't cost her anything; by that hour, her remaining clientele amounted to two owls, still chattering to each other and stuffing themselves on treats.
At the first foggy light of pre-dawn, one vehicle tested its engine, and it roared to life. Based on that success, so did the others. No discussion was necessary on the next move. The lead vehicle quickly headed toward the road, and the others followed. No one looked back.
Wizards relaxed, and the fog slowly lifted. It was a beautiful, sunny Autumn morning in the Highlands.
Within a few days, the abandoned tents were pitched at the Hogsmeade playpark for the children to enjoy. The sign found its way to the Ministry, where it was hung on a Third-Level office wall -- not so much a trophy as a grim reminder.
Soon after, Dumbledore stood to start the evening feast as usual, but had a few words to say.
"I must congratulate you all -- staff, students, elves and owls -- who performed so well in our recent crisis. I am happy to tell you that the new owners begged the county to escape their purchase, based on a report from their engineers that the Hogwarts property is pest-ridden, hazardous, unbuildable, and too far off the beaten track. I'm sure we all concur with their findings.
"Conveniently, a muggle representative of the Ministry had already told the county that they would gladly pay back taxes to reclaim their property if the new owners changed their minds. The county has acceeded. All is back to normal -- or whatever passes for normal around here.
"Now let the feast begin!"